Book Review: Travin D. Why Has Russia Fallen Behind?

Dmitry Travin is a fairly well-known contemporary historian, economist, lecturer, and sociologist, recognized for his unconventional focus on various problems of Russia, both past and present. For 16 years, from 2008 to 2024, he successfully headed the Center for Modernization Studies at the European University at St. Petersburg (EUSP). His departure from this academic institution was officially explained by his reaching retirement age, which would be entirely understandable in a number of Western countries, yet, when viewed against the backdrop of contemporary Russian realities, gave rise to various interpretations.

Travin has gained particular recognition for his works assessing Russia’s politics. His books, with particularly notable titles, date back to the period of his work at the weekly Delo, which published, in several editions, his study Putinskaya Rossiya: ot rassveta do otkata (“Putin’s Russia: From Rise to Retreat”)[1]. Subsequently, together with Otar Margania, the longtime dean of the Faculty of Economics at Saint Petersburg State University, he published Modernizatsiya: Ot Yelizavety Tyudor do Yegora Gaydara (“Modernization: From Elizabeth Tudor to Yegor Gaidar”), which became, in a sense, the starting point for the study of the processes of modernization and postmodernization in Russia and globally[2]. It appears that it was precisely his many years of work at EUSP that enabled Travin to delve more deeply into the question of modernization and the country’s development, especially given that many of his publications were issued by the university’s press[3].

It was at the publishing house of the European University that, in 2021, the book Pochemu Rossiya otstala? (“Why Has Russia Fallen Behind?”) was first released[4], then still in a rather abridged version. Under very different circumstances, a new edition of this book was published by Alpina Publishers in 2025[5]. The author confirms this in the preface to the second edition of his work, which he titled “Intellectual Warm-Up.” He notes that discussion of his monograph took place in a wide variety of audiences, through which he identified two main criticisms of his work.

The first criticism, if one is to believe the author, is “journalistic” and concerns the general framing of the question, namely that the assertion placed in the title regarding Russia’s backwardness does not correspond to reality. Travin responds to this quite sharply, arguing that commentators posing this question either read his book inattentively or did not read it at all. The second criticism he identifies reflects the position of the other extreme of responses, which, on the contrary, proceeds from the assumption of Russia’s a priori backwardness relative to the rest of the world and maintains that Travin did not consider it possible to state this backwardness clearly and directly. He counters this view just as decisively, drawing on specific examples from Russian history. Thus, in response to the idea of a “slave culture” among Russians, he cites the term “autocrat” (samoderzhets), which exists to emphasize independence from another sovereign (gosudar'; p. 9). As for the servility that Travin’s critics attribute to Russians, he cites the example of Patrick Gordon, who in his correspondence with Peter the Great likewise often employed self-deprecating characterizations, thereby playing by the “rules of the game” (p. 7). The author offers no less concrete a response to the question of an age-old “Russian laziness.”

Travin points to the transformation of attitudes toward labor among many peoples under the influence of particular circumstances. In his preface, he briefly analyzes attitudes toward work in different centuries among such peoples as the Japanese, the English, the Dutch, and others (pp. 10-11). The book devotes special attention to the question of attitudes toward labor among northern Italians.

In the preface, he also responds to the accusation of insufficient attention to the vice of “pride,” to which Russians are said to be prone, citing as an example the tradition of mestnichestvo (p. 11). Here, he introduces an argument that makes it possible to address the problem not in the context of any particular ethnos, but as a question of a specific historical epoch. In this regard, for Travin, the example of France under Louis XIV is especially illustrative (pp. 15–17).

From the numerous comments on the first edition, the author also singles out a criticism concerning the absence in Muscovy of a “burgher culture” and of the “communal revolutions” characteristic of it. Here, Travin quite rightly shifts the focus to territorial differences rather than to any supposed inherent traits of Russians: “But the boundary here ran rather along a ‘center–periphery’ line than along a ‘Europe–Russia’ line. The extensive rights enjoyed by cities in Northern Italy, the Netherlands, and certain German lands were absent, for example, in English cities, not to mention those located in the Balkans or in Scandinavia” (p. 19). What follows is a painstaking analysis by the author of the differences in the status of English cities in comparison with Rouen law and related legal traditions.

The final set of arguments that Travin addresses in the preface to the second edition are those advanced by University of Massachusetts Amherst professor of history Marshall Poe in his book The Russian Moment in World History and in other works. It is precisely this author’s theses that Travin treats with the greatest degree of criticism, emphasizing the wrongness of claims regarding Russia’s “non-European” character and rejecting comparisons with the Aztecs and the Incas. Poe’s reasoning suggests that Russians have suffered from their non-Europeanness and therefore have experienced it particularly acutely. Travin categorically disagrees with the assertion that extreme centralization and authoritarianism constituted the basis for the preservation of Muscovy’s, and later Russia’s, independence. He points to similar aspirations shared by Russia and European states—for example, the drive to build a powerful military apparatus, toward which Russia had already directed its efforts under Ivan the Terrible, including the conquest of the Kazan and Astrakhan khanates. Travin reasonably observes that Poe, like many other authors who seek to cast Russian history exclusively in dark tones, fails to take into account quite evident episodes in Russia’s past (although some of the examples cited by Travin in this context, such as the Battle on the Ice of 1242 [p. 26], raise questions).

From the preface to the first edition, the most important point appears to be Travin’s acknowledgment that this book represents a continuation of his earlier work on Russia’s “special path.” In that earlier study, the author sought to offer a critical examination of claims that Russia is a unique country with its own traditions and a messianic destiny. In the present book, Travin develops this argument further, maintaining that Russia is capable of modernization and of catching up with more developed countries, while emphasizing that it is now particularly important for him to present his own vision (p. 31). He is likewise correct in noting that in this work no less—and indeed even more—attention will be devoted not to Russia itself, but to other European countries, in order to better understand the causes of Russia’s falling behind (p. 33).

The author also explicitly clarifies his own understanding of the term “the West.” For him, it encompasses not only the most developed countries of Europe, but also those that have been on the periphery of development, which both facilitates comparison and makes it possible to better situate Russia (pp. 35–36). Travin further notes that in this work he will devote considerably more attention not to individual countries, but to regions such as Florence, Venice, Pskov, Castile, Skåne, and others.

The structure of the book presented by Travin is also rather unusual. It consists of five interludes and four chapters, as well as a conclusion, which the author has given the rather unconventional title “Vdogonku za volkhvami” (“Chasing Volkhvs”). The titles of the chapters and interludes are no less distinctive: “Sneg v khrame” (“Snow in the Temple”); “Dva strannykh goroda” (“Two Strange Cities”); “Krasnyy rassvet Gradary” (“Red Dawn of Gradara”); and “Vlast', strast' i mest'” (“Power, Passion, and Revenge”), among others.

In the first interlude, the author recounts the history of present-day Ryazan and compares it with historical Ryazan, discussing the consequences of the Mongol invasion of Rus’, along with a brief characterization of what would ultimately happen to the country as a result of that invasion. This is followed, in the first chapter, “Nabegi i kochuyushchiye bandity” (“Raids and Wandering Bandits”), by a discussion of the role of various incursions in the history of European peoples. Travin argues that, in order to understand the origins of modernization, it is necessary to turn to the history of the Dark Ages. He provides a fairly detailed account of raids carried out across European territories by various groups of conquerors, including Saracens and Magyars (p. 51). Throughout the chapter, he alternates between descriptions of raids on European cities and states and raids on Russian lands, creating an implicit parallel that is difficult for the reader to overlook.

At the conclusion of the chapter—dense with dates and references—the author introduces the thesis that what occurred in Rus’ by the 16^th century correlates, to a certain extent, with developments in the West by the 10^th century, when the threat of external conquest, for example by Arab forces, had receded (pp. 102–103). Travin speaks of a gap of roughly five centuries in the stabilization of Western and Eastern Europe. At the same time, he does not absolutize this lag, noting the unevenness of development and modernization even within Western Europe itself (p. 105). Finally—and particularly important—Travin does not follow the logic of many foreign authors who derive from the prolonged period of Mongol rule the thesis of a servile Russian mentality. He cites the views of such authoritative thinkers as Mykola (Nikolai) Kostomarov and Hélène Carrère d’Encausse in order to illustrate the established interpretations regarding the origins of autocracy in Russia. He himself, however, places emphasis elsewhere, drawing attention to the irreparable losses that produced a “rut” through which Russia was subsequently compelled to move (pp. 108–109).

It is noteworthy that, according to the author’s concept, the duration of raids can explain both many of Russia’s economic problems and the absence of a Renaissance in Russia, which, in Travin’s view, has not proven to be fatal.

It is also important to note that, in a number of places in the book, it is rather difficult to distinguish the author’s own position from his analysis of the works of various historians and economists. For example: the analysis of the period of Ivan the Terrible’s oprichnina and of the tsar’s struggle against the “mechanisms limiting his power” in society is not entirely clear (p. 218).

The scholarly literature drawn upon by Travin is highly diverse. In this respect, he makes use of both Russian and foreign works to an equal degree, with the latter consulted both in the original language and, where available, in translation. A few examples may be cited. In examining the history of Petrine modernization, Travin draws on the works of Evgeny Anisimov, the well-known St. Petersburg historian and specialist on the 18^th century. In addressing the history of medieval Rus’, he uses the works of the late Ruslan Skrynnikov, author of important studies on the Time of Troubles. In considering the medieval Italian city, Travin relies on the research of Larisa Kotelnikova, of the Institute of History of the Russian Academy of Sciences (now deceased). When discussing the economy of Florence during the Renaissance, he makes use of the works of Richard Goldthwaite. Naturally, more general, “canonical” authors and works also appear throughout the book. For example, the pages of Why Has Russia Fallen Behind? repeatedly reference figures such as Karl Marx, Mikhail Pokrovsky, Lev Gumilev, Dmitry Likhachev, Max Weber, Jacques Le Goff, Sergei Solovyov, and many others. Although Travin engages with the research of historians, sociologists, politicians, and thinkers to varying degrees, he frequently enters into a polemic with many of them.

At the same time, the use of such an extensive body of scholarship entails certain problems that may not be immediately apparent but that become quite noticeable upon closer examination. One of them is that, when describing such a vast number of historical events, it is impossible to remain a specialist in all areas, to take into account everything that occurred, and to preserve the accuracy of all interpretations. The volume of material presented is often excessively dense: Travin moves rapidly from one theme to another, shifting from the description and analysis of one work or study to the next, with the result that the reader—especially one without a strong academic background—may quickly lose the thread of the argument. Thus, in the second chapter, questions of property rights and Russia’s economic lag, as well as the myths that have formed around them, are analyzed in great detail; however, the narrative itself, which extends to more than 100 pages, appears, in our view, overly protracted. In the third chapter, the author seems to have become overly absorbed in the history of Italian and Hanseatic cities, leaving comparatively little space for a thorough analysis of the cases of Novgorod and Pskov.

It is noteworthy that Travin concludes his narrative with a number of open questions, which further deepen the sense of ambiguity and uncertainty surrounding the central problem of the work. In his unconventional conclusion, as if entering into a polemic with his own findings, he raises the question of whether it was appropriate to bring his analysis only up to the beginning of the Petrine reforms. Travin emphasizes that the tasks he has set himself do not permit hasty solutions.

For him, the following conclusions—stated explicitly—are of particular importance. First, Russian lands endured raids for longer than most other European regions, as a result of which the country “stayed too long (zasidelas') at the starting point” and encountered difficulties in organizing its economy. Second, the vulnerability of borders did not imply Russia’s cultural backwardness, since once the danger of external raids subsided, Russia began to develop rapidly. Third, Russia’s peripheral position is addressed: here Travin points to numerous similarities between Russia and other countries on the periphery. Fourth, the absence of a Renaissance on Russian territory was due, among other factors, to weak impulses emanating from the center, while the absence of a Renaissance, in Travin’s view, is by no means fatal.

These conclusions serve as a prelude to the announcement of a subsequent work, which will focus on the causes and the course of the formation of serfdom. Travin already characterizes serfdom as a consequence of economic problems, although he interprets these in a non-Marxist framework (p. 451). He also notes that this next book has already been written and represents, in part, a synthesis of his earlier interviews and lectures, particularly those delivered during his time at EUSP.